The Cambria freeman. [volume] (Ebensburg, Pa.) 1867-1938, 1887-02-18
THE PRETTY BABY.
One Not Long For This world.


"Isn't he pretty baby, John2 See,
just look st him, " and the mother holds
up the tiny creature to pepa, who kisses
and f5ndlos him lovingly.
"Yes, Kate, he Is a pretty baby, but
Tom was pretty baby, too, you re-
member"
"Yes, Tom was a pretty baby-every-
body said So" and she glances across
the room at a sunny-faced four-year old,
but Willie is not like Tom. Willie's
hair Is light, and his eyes," looking
wistfuliy into the bsby's face, "are
dark, and so deep, that when ] look III
them L am almost afraid, they have
such far-away light, they seem TO see
something we cannot.
"Oh, nonsensei don't think that.
He'll grow up to be fine fellow. But,
Kate, 1 wouldn't think so much about
him, he's dear, good, little fellow, but
wouldn't worship him; it isn't right"
As if 1 could help II, ," the mother
says, reprOachfully pressing the slight
form closer and looking into the dark
eyes yearninRly.
A month passes away, and one day
they stand beside q small, white casket,
within which the pretty baby is sleep
ing. All, the mothers eyes were sharp,
and when friends said, What beautiful
bright eyes he has, she saw the far
away look and knew 1t as the light that
never was on land or sea.
"Oh, John, John" she moaned, "I
knew he wasn't long for this world. ]
could see it in his eyes. Oh, my pretty
baby!"
"Yes, dear, you were right" says
papa, and there is q culver in the firm
voice; IF 1t had pleased God to have
left him with US we would have cared
for him the best We could, but we must
give him up, for 1t is His VIII, and He
knows what Is best for Us"
" Yes, know 1t, " and she stoops and
cuts tiny wisp Of hair from the baby's
head.
"Oh, John, you said I worshiped
him. I did, oh, I did, and, God forgive
me, I cant be soTrT for it now, he was
such dear, pretty baby"
Years pnss on. Other babies are
born. They are all pretty babies, every
one who sees them says that, but none
nre Ike the baby with the far-away look.
As they grow up they love to gather
around mothers chair, and she never
tires telling of the dark-eyed baby who
went to live with God
And, when with childish curiosity
they open the Bible to look at the pict-
ures, and find between the leaves q tiny
wisp of hair tied with white satin rib
bon, they touch it reverently and whis-
per beneath their breath, "The pretty
baby"
Years still pass on. The children
grow to be sturdy men and women, and
IS the mother watches them she some
times thinks, eff he had lived he would
havo been such n beautiful man. and
then she smiles and is glad that In
Heaven there is no time, and no matter
how the others may change he is still
the pretty baby.
One day they gather around her bed,
and looking in each others face mourn
fully whisper:
"SLc Is dying"
Shs ssyotrEes her thin hand toward
the table on which tho old Bible rests,
and they say:
"The babv's hair"
They place it In her hand. She kisses
it tendorly, aud a bright light comes
into the dim old eyes, and they say:
"What docs she see?"
She smiles and whispers, "The pretty
baby"
They place the wisp Of hair on her
breast, and fold the wrinkled hands
upon it, and tenderly Law her by the
side Of the pretty baby Detroit Free